groom, Mathews. I will vouch for
them absolutely.'

'Good!' Van Derwater slightly inclined his head as an indication that he
was satisfied. 'We need every man. You had better take them in your
section and equip them with rifles from casualties.'

IV.

A few minutes later, after he had procured food for the two men, who were
growing faint with hunger, Selwyn resumed his post. The heavy grass
fringing the bank made it possible to keep watch without being directly
exposed as a target; but beyond a desultory rifle-fire about a mile on
their right, there was no indication of enemy activity.

When Durwent had been equipped with a steel helmet and a rifle, Selwyn
called him over to his side, and as concisely as possible explained the
military situation. In the German attack against the French forces (with
which the Americans were brigaded) the line had been swept back. Deep
salients had been driven in on both their flanks, but orders had been
received to hold the bridge at all costs, as, if a counter-attack could
be launched, it would be an enfilading one made by troops brought across
the river. Relying on their machine-gun and rifle fire to overcome the
Americans' resistance, the enemy's artillery had been drawn into the
deepening salients; but in spite of all-day fighting the straggling line
had held.

After a few questions from Durwent they relapsed into silence, gazing at
the undulating expanse of country revealed by the ascending sun.

'Selwyn.' Dick cleared his throat nervously. 'I must tell you the
truth. You were decent enough to stand sponsor for Mathews and me, and I
want you to know everything. The major was right. We're not
stragglers--we're deserters.'

Selwyn made no comment, and both men stared fixedly through the long
grass that drooped with heavy dew.

'Yesterday morning,' said Durwent dully, 'I was to have been shot. I was
drunk in the line, and deserved it. It's no use trying to excuse myself.
I fancy my nerves were a bit gone after what we'd been through the last
few months, but---- Well, I suppose I am simply a failure, as that chap
said in London--there isn't much more to it than that. By a queer deal
of the cards, Mathews was on guard, and helped me to escape. It was
rotten of me to let him take the chance; but it's been that way all
through. Even at the end of everything--after being a waster and a
rotter since I was a kid--I have to drag this poor chap down with me.
Promi